


Nadir + Zenith

by violetvaria



Series: Stable AU [9]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Friend Wilt Bozer (MacGyver TV 2016), Hugging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Stable AU, dad!Jack, lots of physical affection, teen!Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22404469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/pseuds/violetvaria
Summary: Jack had known all day that something was wrong.He had that same niggling in his gut that he used to get back in the Sandbox, knowing something was about to happen, something they hadn’t accounted for, and it was gonna blow up (maybe literally) in their faces. And the only reason these days he would feel that level of danger was if something were going to harm Mac.~~~set in dickgrysvn's Stablehands + Stable Homes AU and alongside slightly_ajar's Stable AU
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Stable AU [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1270502
Comments: 57
Kudos: 65
Collections: Stable_AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stablehands + Stable Homes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) by [dickgrysvn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickgrysvn/pseuds/dickgrysvn). 

> With thanks, as always, to the extraordinary dickgrysvn for creating and sharing this wonderful AU! The incomparable [**Stablehands + Stable Homes**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) must be read before anything else in this universe.
> 
> Thanks to the brilliant slightly_ajar for cheering on this story and for being such a fabulous Stableverse buddy!
> 
> This is set the day before Mac's adoption is made official.
> 
> WARNINGS: implied past child abuse, tiny amount of mentioned emotional manipulation, emotional angst, lots and lots of feelings and crying, fear for a (temporarily) missing child

Jack had known all day that something was wrong.

He had that same niggling in his gut that he used to get back in the Sandbox, knowing something was about to happen, something they hadn’t accounted for, and it was gonna blow up (maybe literally) in their faces. And the only reason these days he would feel that level of danger was if something were going to harm Mac.

But Mac had been fine this morning. Well, more or less. Jack had seen the kid’s anxiety level rise the closer they got to their court date, but Jack was so swamped with the adrenaline of anticipation himself, he couldn’t fault Mac’s nerves. And okay, the kid hadn’t wanted Jack to drive him to school today, but there was nothing particularly uncommon about that. Sometimes he caught a ride with Bozer, and that was fine. That was all good.

Nothing to worry about there.

But of course, there was the more unusual way Mac had paused on his way out the door, turning to Jack, tipping his head silently in that way he did when he wanted a hug but didn’t want to be the one to reach out. Jack was always alert for these rare invitations. Although he lavished affection on the boy as if he’d shrivel up and wither away without contact with Mac—which was pretty much true, Jack thought—and Mac accepted the touching, the hugging, the hair-stroking, the shoulder-patting all without a single complaint, even with pleasure…even so, Mac almost never asked for anything.

So Jack had stepped forward as though it were his idea, mock-growled that the kid wasn’t allowed to leave the house without a proper goodbye, and had folded his boy in his arms.

The churning feeling had started then. Jack had come close to deciding that Mac needed to take today off school too, not just tomorrow, and that they should spend the whole day together. But Mac had eventually pulled away and offered that easy smile of his, and if the blue eyes were a little haunted, that could just be the nerves. Right?

Jack was cursing himself for not listening to his intuition. Mac should have been home ages ago. And while Mac was not the most punctual of people, he was pretty good about texting his whereabouts.

Jack checked his phone just in case he hadn’t heard a message alert in the forty-five seconds since he’d last looked. Nothing. _Damn._

He’d sent two texts to the kid already, and he didn’t want to overreact, but every parental instinct he had was screaming at him that something was wrong. Time for one more try before going nuclear.

He typed, _Kid, if I don’t hear from you in the next five minutes, I’m going to start calling all your friends._

He timed it, eyes fixed on the clock, counting down the seconds until he could do _something_, take some action, even if it wasn’t racing out the door to wherever Mac was. Yet. Jack took a deep breath. That would come. He would find Mac. He had to.

At four minutes and thirty-five seconds, his phone pinged. It was only one word.

_Don’t_.

A huge weight rolled off Jack’s shoulders. The kid still had his phone, was conscious and aware enough to use it…and he still had enough sass to try to dictate to the man who—as of tomorrow—would be his father.

_Where are you? I’ll come get you._

He waited, but when there wasn’t an answer within two minutes, he tried again.

_Please tell me you’re okay._

Another few minutes passed, and then he received a chilling response.

_Sorry._

In a panic, Jack tried to convey his sternest order via text. _MAC. HOME. NOW._

But he didn’t expect a response, and he didn’t receive one.

Cursing, he tried calling, but Mac didn’t pick up, so Jack immediately moved on to calling Bozer, who was puzzled but unworried, insisting that Mac had seemed fine.

“Well, maybe a little quiet, but he’s like that sometimes, you know? When he’s thinking about stuff that nobody else would get.”

“Bozer, do you know where he is? Did he say anything?”

There was the humming non-silence of Bozer thinking without saying anything coherent, and then the teen said slowly, “Huh, he did ask me to give something to Katie.”

“What?”

“Hey, I don’t know!” Bozer sounded defensive. “It was all wrapped up, you know, like a present, and I don’t open other people’s presents! I could guess, though. It was probably a book because—”

“Bozer.” Jack interrupted the teen’s rambling. “Did he say anything—anything at all—that would tell you where he is now?”

There was another long pause. “I can’t think of anything, Jack.” Bozer sounded genuinely regretful. “Sorry. He said he didn’t need a ride after school, and that’s the last I saw of him. I guess…when I said, ‘See you later,’ he didn’t say it back.” Jack heard the exact moment his kid’s best friend began to panic. “Man, I should’ve seen something was going on, shouldn’t I? Jack, if—”

“Can you try calling him, Boze? He’s not picking up for me, but maybe…”

Bozer blew out a breath. “Yeah. I’ll do it now. I’ll let you know in a sec.”

He disconnected, and Jack was left staring at his phone and willing it to produce answers. After what felt like an agonizing lifetime but was less than two minutes, his phone chimed repeatedly.

_Straight to voicemail. I sent him a message, but nothing so far._

_Sorry, Jack._

_He’ll probably come home eventually. Right?_

Jack didn’t bother replying. He couldn’t wait for _eventually_. The long minutes of trying to intimidate his phone with a glare had finally produced an idea, and he opened the locate-my-phone app. Mac’s device was on Jack’s plan, so he could ping the kid’s location.

Even before the blinking dot appeared on the map, Jack was on his way out the door.

Breaking land speed records, Jack tried to be grateful that the blinking dot wasn’t moving. He wasn’t sure _why_ it wasn’t moving, because as far as he could recall, the street where he was headed was a quiet commercial area, full of small mom-and-pop stores and exclusive boutiques that all closed early on weeknights.

He tried to shake off the sense of foreboding. Maybe there was a diner or coffee shop he’d forgotten about, and Mac was just sitting there sipping a latte or something. That was probably it. The signal wasn’t stubbornly fixed in one place because Mac was lying on the sidewalk, unconscious, bleeding out…

The truck slammed to a halt as close to the phone as Jack could get, and he leapt out, twisting wildly as he searched.

Mac was nowhere in sight.

He tried calling again, more out of a need to be doing something than because he expected it to do any good, but he heard a buzzing and eventually discovered Mac’s phone in a trash can outside a small branch of the bank that he abstractedly recognized as the one where Mac had his checking account.

The fear that wrapped its icy fingers around his heart was unlike any fear he’d known before. There were only two possibilities. Either Mac ditched his phone because he intended to run away, or…someone had _taken_ him.

Jack suddenly realized he was shaking, literally trembling, and his hands couldn’t seem to figure out how to dial 911, which was probably the next logical step. And then, like a ray of light piercing the dark, Jack grabbed a tiny sliver of hope.

Mac had been saying goodbye. He’d given Bozer a present for Katie, even—even offered Jack a hug this morning. And the bank—Jack’s gaze flashed back to the ATM. If Mac ever planned to run away, he would be thorough and logical about it. That meant getting as much cash as he could before his dad knew he was missing, and—Jack’s throat tightened. Mac knew his phone could be tracked, so tossing it away was a deliberate sign that he didn’t want to be found.

Jack clung to the only good news he could think of. If it were intentional, that meant maybe—_maybe_—there was no perpetrator. No one was trying to harm the kid. And if that were the case, there was one more goodbye that Mac would need to say in person. If Jack could just make it there in time.

There were no lights on in the barn when Jack entered, but the door was ajar. Jack moved silently, senses on high alert, not wanting to hope but unable to prevent it.

He heard Pepper’s nickering before he saw the slim figure in front of her stall.

“Sorry, girl.” The voice was quiet but calm in that way Mac always had when he was around the horses. The kid reached out and rubbed the velvety nose, and Pepper leaned into the touch. “Sorry I won’t be around anymore. Jack will take good care of you, I promise.” For the first time, the steady voice wobbled. “Take care of him too, okay?”

Jack wanted nothing more than to run over to his kid, scoop him up, inspect every inch of him to make sure he was really, truly okay, smother him in hugs…but he was afraid to move. If he startled Mac, would that make the kid run again? And could Jack guarantee he’d catch him if he did?

He continued watching Mac pet the mare who regarded him above all other humans, and he pondered.

But in the end, the decision was made for him.

The blip sounded exactly like R2D2 chirping, and Jack was surprised enough that he looked down at the two phones in his hand. A message from Bozer flashed across Mac’s lock screen.

_Hey, man, Jack is looking for you. He’s kind of worried._

Jack would have laughed at the understatement, but he had more pressing issues. Mac had spun, eyes wide and mouth open, and Pepper was tossing her head in response to the boy’s palpable agitation.

“Mac.” Jack approached slowly, hands lifted in the least threatening posture he could assume. “Take it easy. It’s okay.”

Mac’s eyes darted from side to side, and Jack felt that painful tightness in his chest.

“Please, son. Please let’s just talk about whatever it is, all right? Please. Please don’t run.” Jack almost added another _please_ because he didn’t care how much he had to beg if it meant that Mac would stay.

Mac stood frozen, but when Jack was almost within arm’s length, he finally spoke, voice thready and uncertain. “Jack, you shouldn’t—” He stopped himself, and Jack stopped moving too.

“Shouldn’t what?” Jack realized his tone was sharper than intended, and he took a breath to settle his nerves. “Shouldn’t be here with my son?”

Jack wasn’t sure if that had been the right thing or the wrong thing to say. Tears sparked in Mac’s eyes, and the kid looked away.

“Shouldn’t want me.”

The words were so quiet Jack almost thought they had just floated in on an evening breeze. Because there was no possible way they could have come from this boy he loved more than he loved anything in the universe, this kid who was his reason for living.

“Mac, I—” Jack couldn’t manage any more words. He hadn’t realized that he had started crying, but suddenly a veritable flood was pouring down his face, and he lurched forward and somehow ended up on his knees, shattered, his fear, his relief, combined with the sheer _pain_ in Mac’s voice, all too much to bear. “_Mac_…”

It felt like hours before Jack noticed that the kid was kneeling next to him, his movements frantic as he patted Jack’s shoulders and tried to catch some of the deluge streaming down his cheeks. Jack reached out and pulled the kid close, and—_thank God_—Mac let him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: reference to emotional manipulation, lots and lots of crying and feelings, doubts of self-worth, poorly used metaphors, tooth-rotting fluff (you might need a dentist after this)

Mac had never seen Jack break down so completely. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever seen _anyone_ weep the way Jack was now, and it terrified him enough that he forgot his good intentions, forgot that he was going to do what was best for Jack and leave, forgot that he had already said goodbye as much as he could.

He hadn’t been able to move when Jack first appeared, hadn’t even been able to think enough to process if he felt more relieved or disappointed, more fearful or irritated. He couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t take in whatever words Jack was saying, but a part of him recognized the former Delta was doing his level best to appear nonthreatening, so he finally collected himself enough to try to send Jack away. Now, when it would hurt less than later.

_Selfish. That was for you, not for him._

But Jack didn’t get angry, didn’t yell, didn’t make any demands. Instead, he…broke.

And even though it was his fault, even though he was the one who had caused this pain, Mac couldn’t control his own automatic reaction as he fell beside the man who had loved him more in the past year and a half than he’d ever been loved in his life. He began tapping Jack’s shoulders, trying to garner his attention and haul him out of his sorrow, and his hands, of their own accord, wiped the man’s wet cheeks.

When Jack reached for him, he couldn’t make even the slightest effort to resist.

They knelt together, Jack still shaking but with tears slowing, Mac quivering internally but unable to force his brain to work. He absently noted Pepper’s distressed huffs quieting in direct proportion to the lowering volume of her humans. He felt in some distant corner of his mind that his knees were growing stiff against the hard floor. But mostly, he just felt the warmth of Jack’s arms around him, and he couldn’t concentrate on what that meant or what he wanted it to mean.

Jack finally raised one hand to wipe his face, and he looked down at the kid. Very, very slowly, he lifted the other hand, releasing Mac without losing eye contact.

Mac understood the gesture for what it was, and he almost started sobbing himself. Jack didn’t want him to feel trapped. Every line of the man’s posture was screaming that he wanted to keep holding on to Mac, but Jack was letting him make the choice.

He’d already made it this morning. But it had killed him to do so, and he couldn’t do it again.

Mac shook his head so slightly it might have just been a draft rustling through the partly open door. He looked at where his hands had locked on Jack’s overshirt, and he carefully forced them open. Just as deliberately, he twined his fingers into Jack’s.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Jack sagged in relief, dropping down to sit with his back against Pepper’s stall door. He tugged on Mac’s hand, and for just a moment, the teen thought he was actually going to pick him up and sit him in his lap, cradling him as if he were four years old, and Mac knew that right then he was completely powerless to protest.

Instead, Jack planted his feet flat on the ground and pulled Mac into his chest, his knees forming a barrier on either side of the kid. And somehow rather than confining, Mac realized it felt safe.

They stayed together for several minutes before Mac could hear anything over the rush of blood in his ears, and he slowly became aware that Jack was repeating the same words over and over like a mantra.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Jack,” Mac whispered, but it came out in a groan.

“Why?” Jack’s voice was quiet and husky. “Son, can you tell me why you were—were sayin’ goodbye? Why—” He couldn’t complete the question, and it made Mac’s heart constrict.

“I’m sorry.”

One of Jack’s hands crept up to cradle his kid’s head, and Mac let himself be tucked under Jack’s chin.

“I’m sorry,” Mac whispered again, and then he was shaking, terrified and heartbroken and aching from the deepest core of his being, and he couldn’t stop apologizing even when his voice cracked on his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay. Shh, I know. It’s okay. I love you. Completely, forever, no matter what, remember?” Jack’s voice was unsteady, but his arms were strong and tight, and the calloused hand in Mac’s hair was as comforting and familiar as ever. “Just promise me you’ll never run—you’ll never try to leave. Okay?”

Mac turned to hide his face in his guardian’s shirt.

“Mac? Please, buddy, can you promise me that?”

Jack had promised not to abandon him, not to send him away. Mac had never considered that the roles might be reversed, had never envisioned a scenario that would have him willfully leaving Jack, even if that had been under duress.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, hating that his voice came out in a whimper. He cleared his throat, but that didn’t help matters much. “I didn’t want to.”

“Okay.” Jack pressed his lips to the boy’s temple, lingering there for a long moment. “Okay. Then you don’t have to leave, all right? If you don’t want to. This is your home. With me. Always, okay?”

“But—” Mac shook his head, fists clenching in Jack’s shirt. He didn’t know how to continue.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” Jack whispered. “That it? It just makes it legal, son. Makes it official. Doesn’t change anything else. You’re still my kid, and I’m still your dad.”

Mac shook his head harder, tears coming faster. That was the whole problem, wasn’t it? Pretending that Jack wanted to be his dad.

Jack felt his heart sink. He could only come up with one explanation.

Mac had changed his mind.

“Kid—” Jack choked and had to swallow several times before he could continue. “If—if that isn’t what you want, we don’t have to change anything. I—” His lungs felt crushed in his chest, and he couldn’t force any more words out.

Mac stiffened. He’d tried to give Jack a way out by leaving, and that hadn’t worked. Maybe not going through with the adoption would leave the door open if Jack ever changed his mind. That would hurt like—like nothing in his life. More than the death of his mom, probably, who hadn’t _chosen_ to leave her son. But if that was what Jack needed…

“Then you can decide later,” he offered almost inaudibly.

Jack scrubbed his eyes with the hand not buried in his kid’s hair. “Decide what?”

“You know.” Mac looked away. “If—if you want to—to keep—if you want me to stay.”

“_Mac_.” Jack wrapped both arms around the shaking teen, legs curling in, as though he were trying to suffocate him. “You’re my son. _My son_. I love you. I love you so, so much.”

Mac didn’t fight the crushing hold that engulfed him. “He said you’d—stop wanting me.”

“What?” Jack was shocked enough to sit up slightly, loosening his grip a little. “That’s nonsense. Who said that?”

Mac looked away, not answering.

“Oh, no.” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “No, no, no. Kid, did your—did James talk to you?” He continued when Mac still refused to look at him. “We had a deal. He doesn’t get near you, and he stays out of jail. Where did he find you?” Jack’s blood was boiling. The next time he saw James MacGyver, he would do more than just shove him to the floor.

Mac shook his head miserably.

“Mac. You need to tell me. I’m not upset with you, all right? He’s the one in trouble. He needs to keep his distance—”

“He didn’t talk to me.”

Jack’s mouth snapped shut.

“I—I can’t even be sure—not for sure that—”

“What is it, bud?”

“He—someone left a note. On Bozer’s car. The—the passenger side of the windshield.”

“He left you a note?” Jack couldn’t help that his voice rose an octave.

“Someone,” Mac stressed. “I don’t know—not for sure.” But Mac had had no doubts yesterday when he’d arrived at the car at the far end of the school parking lot. He’d beaten Bozer outside at the end of the day, spotted the note, and plucked the paper from under the windshield wipers. After reading it, he was beyond grateful that his friend hadn’t seen it.

“Show it to me,” Jack commanded, voice suddenly hard.

Mac shook his head rapidly.

“If he’s harassing you, we need to—”

“I burned it.” This was true. He’d first torn it into tiny flakes and then fed them to a candle that was the largest fire Jack would permit in the lab when he wasn’t there. The ashes hadn’t darkened the white-hot words seared in Mac’s brain, though.

“You bur—okay.” Jack took several breaths. “Can you tell me what it said?”

Mac twitched one shoulder.

“Mac,” Jack prompted sternly, immediately gentling his voice. “Please.”

Saying those words out loud was worse than reading them the first time. “It—it—Jack, it doesn’t matter.”

“Kiddo, if it upset you enough to make you want to leave, I think it matters a lot.” Jack noticed the phones he’d dropped on the ground in his haste to grab his boy, and he picked up Mac’s. “Here. Easier to—to write it than to say it?”

Mac accepted the device, dismissing all the notifications. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, dumping the phone outside the bank like that. He hadn’t been able to put much in his backpack this morning without arousing suspicion, but he’d walked to an out-of-the-way ATM after waiting for the school to empty out so he could wander the halls one last time and say his silent goodbyes. He’d withdrawn the maximum amount of cash he could, and he figured he’d catch a bus to—somewhere. It didn’t really matter where. It just mattered that he got out before Jack unwittingly made the biggest mistake of his life and adopted him. And if Mac hadn’t been so sentimental about Pepper and the other horses, he might have been gone before Jack caught up with him.

He felt a warm hand rubbing circles across his shoulder blades, and he was instinctively soothed. Mac typed quickly and, after a moment’s hesitation, passed the phone to his guardian.

_Dalton will get tired of you. Everyone does._

His ears burned with shame as he waited for Jack to respond.

Jack was sure he was going to explode. If he didn’t have his kid in his arms, he would have punched the wall by now, probably kicked down Pepper’s stall door—which she would have taken full advantage of, after trampling her supposed owner into the ground for scaring her. He felt like he was wrestling an enormous hot air balloon that burned like fire and billowed around him without ever letting him get a firm grip anywhere.

“Son.” Jack’s voice trembled, and he tried again. “Son, that—I am going to _bury him alive_.”

Mac jerked sharply to look up at his guardian.

“I am going to rip him to shreds. Break every bone in his body. Kid, you—I—he had no right to contact you at all. And definitely not to tell you _lies_ like this.”

Mac’s eyes were wide and unblinking.

“What he said—it isn’t true, buddy. It could never be true.”

“But he—”

“Kid, I don’t know what issues he’s got, but I know _he’s_ the one with problems, not you. People don’t get tired of you, Mac. Especially not me. I love you. Forever, remember?”

“But—” Mac felt Jack’s arms tightening around him again, but he hurried on. “Tomorrow—”

“What about tomorrow?”

“It—it’ll be permanent.”

Jack waited, but that was apparently the entirety of Mac’s protest. “Of course it’ll be permanent, kiddo,” he chided gently. “What do you think _forever_ means?”

Mac shook his head.

“You think I’m gonna change my mind?”

Mac shrugged.

“Mac. You think six months from now, or a year from now, I’ll love you _less_ than I do now?” Jack stared down at his kid incredulously. “That—that ain’t how it works, son.”

“I know you think that, Jack.” Mac drooped, letting his guardian take his weight. “But how do you know for sure?”

“I just know.”

“You can’t. The past isn’t—isn’t always a reliable indicator of the future.”

Jack scratched his head and thought for a few minutes. “Okay. You remember that homework I helped you with the other day? The one with all the dots and lines?”

That teased a soft snort out of the kid. “Um, graphing positive and negative correlations? Yeah.”

_Helped_ was a generous term, Jack acknowledged. He had been more in the providing-snacks-and-encouragement role than the plotting-all-the-variables-and-completing-the-assignment part. But he’d seen enough to have a basic idea of what Mac was doing for his math class.

“Well, we’ve known each other for about eighteen months now, right?” Jack waited for Mac’s confirmation. “And in that whole time, the way I feel about you—” The words caught in his throat, but he forced them out. “It’s only gone up, kiddo. Only up. That’s positive, right?”

Mac didn’t respond.

“Son, I love you completely, but, thing is…_completely_ just keeps gettin’ bigger. You understand?”

Jack hoped it was finally sinking in. He’d sit there all night if that’s what it took, but if he were honest, he was getting a little sore. He wanted to get the kid home, maybe fix him some of his momma’s famous hot chocolate, put him in bed, and wake up tomorrow to make Mac his lawful son.

Mac was fiddling with a button on Jack’s shirt. “You can’t know that, though.” His voice was a mere breath.

“Of course I can. Why not?”

“You say it’s a positive slope, but—maybe it’s actually a parabola. A negative parabola. And eventually—”

Jack wasn’t sure what the kid was babbling about, but he was confident he didn’t like it. “Hey, stop it. There are no negative parachutes here, okay? I told you, we’re only going one way.”

“You can’t know—”

“Yes, I can!” Jack insisted so vehemently that Pepper, who had been dozing, huffed and stamped a hoof. “Mac, you’re my son. I love you, and I always will. I know it like—” He looked over at a window to glimpse the night sky. “I know it like I know the sun will come up again. Even when we can’t see it, even when it’s dark or cloudy, we know it’s there.”

Mac twisted to look out the same window and then turned back to Jack, eyes as wide as moons.

“You’re like the sun, Mac,” Jack murmured, voice breaking. “You are light, warmth—my center of gravity. You are the reason I get up in the morning and the last thing I think about at night. You are my son, Mac, and you are the sun in my sky.”

Mac was quiet for a long time. That note had seemed so reasonable, so _plausible_ when he’d read it yesterday. It had seemed like a simple statement of fact. But now, nestled in Jack’s embrace, Mac was beginning to doubt what he thought he knew. Maybe Jack was right and James was wrong. And if that were true…

“Jack…” Mac swallowed hard. “Are—are you sure?”

“Never been surer of anything in my life, kiddo. You are stuck with me forever.”

A hint of a smile appeared on the teen’s face. “Completely and forever.”

“And no matter what. I love you, Mac.” He gazed earnestly down at his son until Mac lifted his head to meet his eyes, clearly searching for the answers that he already knew and had only to accept.

“I—love you too, Jack.”

Jack pulled his son close so he could plant a long kiss above his ear. “I’m gonna tell you that every day, you know?”

“I know.” He did. Jack already said it at every opportunity. It was—reassuring. To think that if things changed, it didn’t always mean they got worse.

“And not just tell you. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it to you. I’m not gonna waste a single second of time with you.” Jack leaned forward so his forehead was resting against Mac’s. “Make hay while the sun shines, right?”

“You—” Mac swallowed. “We’ll keep making it better.” He spoke tentatively, hardly daring to voice the promise and request.

“You bet we will. Sure as the sun rises.” Jack faltered for a second, pulling back slightly but holding his gaze. “If—I want to keep that appointment at court tomorrow. I want _you_. Is that—are you—”

“Yeah. I—I want that too, Jack.”

Jack grinned at the same time he made a sound like a strangled sob of relief. “That’s good, son. We’re—we’re not gonna be separated again, right?”

Mac responded to the piercing look. “I won’t run away, Jack. I promise.” He attempted a smile of his own. “If you want to get rid of me, you’ll have to throw me out yourself.”

Jack hugged his kid tightly. “And that is _never_ gonna happen.”

And Mac thought he might be able to believe him.

“So how about we say _see you later_ to Pepper, go home, and get ready for the tip of that paradox tomorrow?”

Mac’s nose wrinkled. “The tip of a parabola? That…doesn’t make sense, Jack.”

“Yeah?” Jack chuckled as he struggled to his feet and tucked his son into his side. “Well, you tell me what word to use then. For the highest point in my whole life.”

“Zenith, maybe? When the sun reaches its height?”

“Zenith, yeah.” Jack nodded thoughtfully as the two strolled in tandem outside. “I like that, sonny-boy.” He nudged Mac. “That works on two levels. Get it? Sunny boy?”

Mac rolled his eyes. “I get it, Jack.”

“Hey, what’s the opposite of that?”

Mac blinked in confusion. “The opposite of _zenith_? Um, nadir. Why?”

“Tomorrow is that too.” Jack grinned. “It’s the best day of the past. But the future’ll get even better. So I was right. It _is_ a paradox. Two things at the same time.”

With a faux aggravated sigh, Mac climbed into the truck, relaxing when Jack immediately turned on the heat and adjusted the vents to blow on the chilled teen. He eased further into the familiar seat as a warm hand landed on his shoulder, comforting and steady during the drive.

Jack could say what he wanted, Mac reflected. There was no way tomorrow would be Mac’s lowest point. In fact, today ranked, if not the worst day, pretty far down. But that meant Jack was also right, and it would only get better from here. As of tomorrow, he would be Jack’s son. He had a chance to start a new life, building on a new foundation, solid earth beneath his feet.

It was fine if Jack thought Mac was like the sun, he decided.

After all, Jack was Mac’s world.


End file.
